For the Girl Who Has Everything
by The Yankee Countess
Summary: It's Christmas, and Sybil has to work at the hospital. Guess this means Tom will have to give her her present while she's there. Across-the-Rubicon's Sybil/Tom sexytimes challenge: "Anywhere At Work"...now with a holiday twist! Merry Christmas indeed! NOW WITH A NEW YEAR'S CHAPTER! Happy New Year Sybil/Tom shippers!
1. For the Girl Who Has Everything

_Here's my answer to the "Across-the-Rubicon's" latest Sybil/Tom sexytimes challenge: Anywhere At Work! This idea has been brewing in my mind for quite some time, and when the challenge came to pass, I knew it was time to make it so! And there's a little Christmas twist to it as well ;o) MERRY CHRISTMAS Sybil/Tom fans!_

* * *

**"For the Girl Who Has Everything"  
_by The Yankee Countess_**

**_Christmas Day, 1918_**

"But it's Christmas!"

Sybil groaned and rolled her eyes. "I'm well aware of that Mama! But Christmas didn't just come to Downton! It's Christmas at the hospital too, and they need me down there!"

"Oh this is ridiculous," her father muttered. "Can't someone else go?"

Sybil shook her head. "They're short staffed as it is and they need the help. I'm sorry that this 'ruins' your holiday plans, but perhaps now you will appreciate the hard work that people like hospital workers must go through, and the sacrifices they make to ensure that everyone have a happy Christmas, not just those of us who live in the big house!"

She knew her family was watching her leave with fallen mouths and wide eyes. _Let them_, she thought. _Let them gasp and groan and ask themselves "where did we go wrong?" I'm done caring. And once again, she was filled with even more longing to leave that house and all its silly rules behind. And perhaps travel to an emerald isle…where I can be whatever I wish, except "Lady" Sybil Crawley…where I can be Mrs.—_

She paused just before she entered the Servant's Hall. She smoothed her dress and glanced at her reflection in the glass of a picture, perhaps giving her cheeks a slight pinch, before taking a deep breath, and entering. All of the servants were wearing their paper hats and popping crackers, enjoying what looked to be a most scrumptious feast. Indeed, their Christmas celebration looked much more enjoyable than the all the ones she had attended upstairs throughout her life.

"Lady Sybil!" Carson gasped, standing and suddenly everyone in the room was standing with him.

"Oh please, please, there's no need to get up, please…" she smiled at them all and then looked to the one man she had come to see, heat rising in her cheeks as she met his eyes. "I beg your pardon, but…Branson, I'm afraid I need a ride to the hospital."

"Oh, and on Christmas Day?" Mrs. Hughes gasped, looking shocked and pained like her mother.

"Yes, I'm afraid so," she murmured. "And I'm sorry to drag you away, Branson—"

"Not at all, milady," he said with a dutiful bow of his head. "I quite understand and will bring the car around."

"Oh no need for that, I'll just go to the garage with you," she turned then to follow him out the servant's entrance. "And I hope you all have a very merry holiday!"

They smiled and thanked her, really only sitting until after she left. Branson held the door open for her, and Sybil walked outside, murmuring a small "thank you" as they walked in silence to the garage…and only until she knew for a fact that they were out of eyesight…did she throw herself at him.

Tom was completely taken by surprise…however, he didn't protest.

Sybil was in his arms, her mouth was pressed against his, and her tongue (dear God, he would always be thankful that he taught her how to kiss like that!) was insisting entrance. Well, who was he to deny her?

"Mmmmmmmm…" she moaned into his mouth as the kiss deepened and she felt his tongue slide along hers. His arms moved around her too, and Sybil gasped as she felt them slide down her body and cup her rump and squeeze it. "Tom…" she whimpered as his lips began to move across her cheek, and descend down her neck. "I…I really do need to go to the hospital, I'm afraid…" she moaned, leaning her neck just slightly, offering him more access.

He continued kissing and gently nibbling on the flesh of her neck and throat, while speaking. "And here I thought you were luring me out to the garage to seduce me," he growled, earning a gasp and giggling from her. With great reluctance, but great strength…he sighed and moved his head away. His arms, however, remained wrapped around her. "A shame you have to spend Christmas at the hospital."

Sybil shrugged her shoulders, before nestling her head against his chest, smiling and happy to have his warmth around her. "It may not be how many people wish to celebrate the birth of Our Lord, but…surprisingly, I don't mind. Perhaps because it makes me wonder if this is what it will be like…next Christmas…?"

Tom looked down at her and Sybil nibbled her bottom lip and smiled up at him. They had both agreed that when the New Year began, and the last of the patients from the Convalescent Home had left…_that_ was when they would make their move.

"Well, I hope you don't spend every Christmas working a Dublin hospital," he joked. "I'd like to think there will be some Christmas mornings where I don't have to let you out of bed…not for a very, very long time…"

"Tom!" she gasped, blushing deeply. He only chuckled, which sounded very much like one of his feral growls, the sort he made when his desire was very high. And judging from the hard bulge she was feeling throbbing against her abdomen, Sybil knew that his desire was indeed, very, _very_ high.

"Just sharing _my_ hopes for next Christmas…" he chuckled, kissing her cheek before finally letting her go.

* * *

The day had been excruciating on her feet. With only so many nurses available, she had to do the job of at least four, which meant she hardly had the opportunity to sit and relax. Her only saving grace was the young volunteer nurse named Jenny, a girl who had only turned sixteen, and was still a little squeamish and naïve about the way a hospital worked, but who was eager to help. Jenny would rush and fetch supplies for her if she needed anything, and because she was so young, she stayed close to Sybil, watching her work, and helping when it was needed, from making beds to sponge-bathing patients. Yes, Sybil had a feeling that without Jenny's help that day, she would be lost.

"I'm sorry you were dragged away from your Christmas celebrations," Sybil said to the girl at one point during the day.

"Oh! Oh no, milady—I mean, Nurse Crawley, I don't mind. But…but I'm sorry you were taken from your grand Christmas at Downton Abbey."

She smiled at the girl and shook her head. "They're not as grand as people think."

They continued their work well into the evening. Sybil's back was really starting to protest every time she bent down to change sheets or pick up a used bedpan. Her shift would be over soon, and while a part of her was very glad indeed for the respite, another part of her was happy she had come and spent her Christmas at the hospital. _It's as far from a Downton Christmas as I can imagine, and if I close my eyes, I can imagine this being next Christmas…in Dublin…finishing a shift before coming home to Tom and sitting by a fire, our arms wrapped around—_

"Merry Christmas, milady…"

Sybil jumped by the sudden hot breath that blew against the back of her neck, and the sensual Irish brogue that filled her ear. She turned quickly, gasping at seeing him standing before her, his hands professionally clasped behind his back, his uniform looking as impeccable as always. "Tom!" she blushed, glancing around her to make sure no one else had heard. Jenny had gone to take some old bed sheets to the laundry room, and none of the other nurses working nearby seemed to notice. She cleared her throat then and took a careful step back, once again putting up the silly charade. "Branson…" she addressed, trying to look every bit "lady of the manor". "I did not expect you so soon."

Tom gave a rather dramatic bow, clearly playing up the charade as well. "Forgive me, milady, I am early…" he lifted his eyes then…and Sybil felt her heart thud wildly at…the strange and secretive look he was giving her. "I thought I would give you your Christmas present."

Why she was blushing so brightly, why her knees suddenly felt weak, why there was a strange tremble spreading throughout her body…she didn't know. Well, that wasn't entirely true, she did know (and his name was Tom Branson) but…he was up to something. She could tell.

She grabbed his wrist then, and tugged him after her, much to his surprise. She tugged him all the way up to the third floor, where one of the lesser used supply cupboards lay. She opened the door, looked down the corridor quickly to make sure no one had seen them…and then pulled him inside, before quickly shutting the two of them there.

"Milady!" he gasped, his surprise over the top for humor's sake, but it was obvious that she had surprised him by pulling him in there. Not that he was complaining. His arms were already snaking their way around her.

Sybil swatted at his chest. "Tom!" she hissed, looking rather furious. "We promised each other, no presents! Remember?"

He sighed and nodded his head. "Aye, I remember."

She swatted him again. "We're saving what money we have for our life together in Dublin!"

"I know—will you stop swatting me?"

She groaned and rolled her eyes at him. The cupboard was dark, but there just enough light streaming through the tiny cracks in the door for her to make out his face. "Then what is this talk about presents?"

"If it makes you feel any better, I didn't spend any money on it…"

But this only caused Sybil to groan again. "Oh God, that means you made something! Which is worse, because I didn't make you anything—"

"I didn't make you something," he interrupted. "And second of all, you giving me your love…and accepting my proposal…that was all I ever wanted," he lifted one of her hands to his lips and Sybil shivered as he kissed pulse-point of her inner wrist.

"Then…then what do you mean about…giving me my Christmas present?"

That look she had seen earlier…it was back. Only…it was darker…and more intense than before. Not sinister, nothing like that…but…incredibly seductive. Her toes were curling, the shivers running down her spine increased, and there was a strange, delicious tightness, weaving around her core. She swallowed and didn't realize until her back hit the crate behind her, that she had been backing away towards the wall.

"Sybil…" he murmured her name, closing the gap between them. "Remember…last week?"

Her mouth fell open at his words. Oh Lord, how could she forget?

She had ordered the motor to take her into Ripon…but it had all been a ruse to get away from the house…and to get some time alone with him. They were kissing a great deal now…ever since the Armistice. Sybil had run out to his cottage, so happy with the news that the War had ended, that before she knew it, she had her arms around him and her lips pressed against his. Yes, it was a surprise to them both…but what wasn't so surprising was how they both responded to her impulse. Tom enfolded her and let his passions out, finally, kissing her back intensely, nearly robbing her of her breath. They kissed that day, and continued stealing kisses from each other whenever the chance appeared. Sybil discovered that she liked kissing…very, very much. And…twenty-one seemed to be awfully long time for a girl to wait to be kissed, so she felt she had a great deal of catching up to do. And Tom seemed to share her thoughts, especially since he had been waiting for her to accept his love and proposal for so many years! They kissed all sorts of kisses…and the caresses naturally followed. Both Tom's kisses and caresses left her wanting more, and her body always felt like it was on fire wherever he touched her, be it with his fingers or his lips. Of course…that all changed last week. Last week…the fire he had started became an inferno!

After they had driven a safe distance from the house and village, Tom parked the car behind a willow tree and soon they were both in the backseat, kissing again, touching again…only this time, Sybil encouraged his hands to touch her in places he hadn't touched her before…but she had been longing to feel him touch.

His hands cupped her breasts, and Sybil gasped and arched her back to feel more. His lips trailed hot, fiery kisses along her neck…and across her collarbone…while one of his hands squeezed the mound of her right breast, causing the nipple to strain against the fabric, desperate for his attention…and the other hand…moved down her hip and clutched it. Some strange instinct seemed to take control of her then…because she lifted her leg, and began to wrap it around his body. This of course caused her skirt to fall back…allowing Tom the chance to touch her stocking-covered leg and caress the flesh there. Sybil moaned and whimpered…while his hand traveled higher up her leg…until it was beneath her skirts…and she held her breath…as his fingers brushed against her moistening knickers…causing her to tremble and gasp.

She had stopped him then. It had been just too much, and that tightness she had been feeling was growing to a point where her body felt…strange. Deliciously, wonderfully strange, yes, but…she knew it was too much. Of course, that wasn't to say she hadn't been thinking about it ever since…or dreaming about it.

Now she was trembling at the sweet memory. "Of course I remember…"

Tom smiled and looked down, his hands around her, running up and down her spine, pulling her closer to his body…and she gasped as once again, she felt the evidence of his desire for her. "I love you…" he whispered, his forehead touching hers.

She blushed and smiled at this. "And I love you," she whispered back.

"I want to show you how much I love you…" he continued.

This caused another tremble to course through her. "What…what do you mean?"

"And I was thinking, 'what can a man give to such a woman? For the girl who has everything…'," he paused and brushed a dark curl from her face. "So…I want to give you something…" he murmured. "Something that…that I'm fairly positive you've never had."

She nibbled on her bottom lip. "How can you be sure?"

He smiled then, a wicked smile that had her toes curling. "Well, I'm certain that you've never had it like this…" he grinned, his lips brushing against her cheek.

She was melting against him, her imagination running wild. "You're very sure of yourself," she gasped, feeling his hands run down to her rump like they had that morning. "Tom…are you sure?"

"God yes," he groaned. "Sybil, I just want to show you how much I love you…I want to do this for you…" he was shaking in her arms, and she was amazed, again, at the "power" she apparently had over him. However, his grip around her loosened slightly. "But I respect your wishes too. I won't push you—"

"No! No, it's not that," she blushed, holding him even tighter. "I…I just worry about you…" she nibbled her bottom lip. While she was ignorant in some ways when it came to the physical acts of expressing love, Sybil knew enough about the male anatomy to know that…things could sometimes be rather _difficult_…for men. And she didn't want Tom to be in pain.

He smiled and kissed her lips, sweetly, tenderly. "Believe me, to do this for you…the pleasure it gives me—the very thought of it…" he paused, a groan escaping his throat. "Please, Sybil…I love you; I want do this for you…"

She wanted it too. God, her curiosity for what he meant was driving her crazy! "Alright…" she whispered at last. "I suppose that can also be my Christmas present to you?"

He grinned and kissed her again. Her hands moved around the back of his neck and tangled in his hair as the kiss deepened even more. His hands, which had returned to her rump, were squeezing the flesh…and Sybil gasped as he suddenly picked her up, and she found herself sitting atop the crate.

"Tom?"

"I'm here, love…" he whispered against her lips, before his own began to kiss down her neck. "I'm always here…"

* * *

"JENNY!"

The girl jumped at the rather harsh voice of Nurse Daniels, the head hospital nurse. "Y-y-yes?" she stammered, feeling very flustered whenever the head nurse was around.

"Where is Nurse Crawley?"

Jenny's eyes widened. "I…I thought she was—"

"Her shift ended twenty-minutes ago, and she should be back at Downton now; I just received a telephone call from the house! Apparently her Ladyship is frantic because Nurse Crawley spent her entire Christmas here, instead of with them…" Nurse Daniels sounded very annoyed…although from what Jenny could tell, it wasn't so much at Nurse Crawley.

"I don't like receiving such telephone calls where I am snapped at like a small child," she muttered through gritted teeth. "And after I hung up, I looked outside and see a car which can only be from Downton Abbey, which means that she is still here! Now go and find her and send her on her way so I don't have to deal with any more telephone calls like that!"

Jenny nodded her head and quickly turned on her heel. She began searching every room, trying to see if Nurse Crawley was in any of those. But while there were nurses in those rooms, none of them were the nurse she was searching for. She continued her search, asking along the way if any of the nurses had seen Nurse Crawley. She didn't dare ask Dr. Clarkson as he made his rounds; she didn't want to get Nurse Crawley into any trouble. Onward she continued, climbing the stairs and checking; still no sign of her. Jenny's feet were aching, and she was growing frustrated and even a little worried. What had happened to her?

And then she heard a strange sound.

What…what on earth…?

It sounded like…moaning?

Jenny's brow furrowed and she turned her head to where the sound was coming from. It sounded like…it was somewhere behind the walls!

She moved closer to the wall…and followed the sound. It seemed to be getting louder and louder the further down the corridor she went, until she was standing just outside…the supply cupboard?

Jenny glanced to her right and to her left. Hardly anyone came up here, and this store cupboard was barely used. She leaned closer…practically pressing her ear to the door, and gasped as she heard a distinct feminine voice cry out.

"OH GOD! YES! YES! RIGHT THERE! MOVE YOUR TONGUE…THERE!"

Jenny jumped away, her eyes wider than saucers. What was…who was…?

…Surely that wasn't…?

"MORE…ooooohhhhhh yes, yes, YES! I WANT MORE! PLEASE DON'T STOP! PLEASE DON'T STOP!"

Oh gracious…that sounded like Nurse Crawley! And…whatever was happening to her…well, she clearly wasn't crying out for help!

Jenny was blushing furiously, and decided to hide in one of the empty nearby rooms, and act as a lookout in case any other doctor or nurse came up there. The last thing Nurse Crawley needed in a moment like this was for someone to open the cupboard doors and find her…well, in a rather shocking state.

* * *

Sybil moaned, her head thrown back and thrashing back and forth against the wall behind her. Her body was vibrating, her toes were curled, her legs were shaking, and her hips were shockingly thrusting forward, eager to meet each stroke and lap.

Her skirts were pushed up to her waist…and down, hanging around her left ankle was her knickers. Her fingers were curled and tangled in the strands of Tom's hair…which happened to be nestled between her legs. And speaking of her legs, both of them had been thrown over his shoulders, letting him get closer…much, _much_ closer than Sybil had ever imagined.

His hands were now holding her hips, encouraging her to move and thrust against his tongue. Earlier they had been caressing and squeezing her breasts through her uniform, playfully pinching her nipples and causing her to moan. But now they held her there, bringing her even closer and closer to his mouth, which was bringing her closer and closer to that wonderful trembling peak that she could feel growing in the pit of her core.

It had started out as a passionate kiss…and then his mouth began to descend, down her neck, to her throat. She wondered if he was going to unbutton her uniform (she had fantasies about him touching her breasts with his lips) but while he kissed the mounds through the fabric, he did not unbutton her dress. Instead he continued kissing down her body, over her clothes…and she then realized he was lifting her skirts, lifting them higher and higher…and then she felt his fingers, once again, at her center.

"TOM!" she had gasped, but unlike the last time, she didn't stop him. She felt his fingers hook into her knickers, and while a part of her screamed that she shouldn't, that this wasn't what "fine aristocratic ladies" should do, she lifted her hips just slightly, allowing him to peel her knickers down her body. Fine, aristocratic ladies shouldn't accept marriage proposals from chauffeurs, either; ah well—she never thought she made a very good aristocrat anyway.

"Trust me?" he breathed against her body, and despite her trembling at allowing him such intimacy in seeing like this, she nodded her head…and gasped as he slowly spread her legs…and then draped them over his shoulders. The next thing she knew…his head was disappearing under the folds of her skirt…and his lips were carefully kissing the inside of her thigh…before moving up to her center.

That was when she threw her head back. The moment his lips touched her there, and then his tongue licked her, sliding up and down, like a kitten licking cream from the bowl. He growled against her body…and buried his head even closer, his lips and tongue teasing her, licking her, stroking her, and she was shaking and moaning and thrashing, and then practically screaming as his tongue settled up around the nub at the crown of her womanhood, flicking across it, before wrapping his lips around it and sucking it gently into his mouth.

"OH GOD! YES! YES! RIGHT THERE! MOVE YOUR TONGUE…THERE!" His voice was muffled against her body, but he seemed to be growling his approval at her telling him what she liked. Oh God, what she LOVED! She was shaking, something was happening to her, building more and more and it was getting better and better. "MORE…ooooohhhhhh yes, yes, YES! I WANT MORE! PLEASE DON'T STOP! PLEASE DON'T STOP!" He shook his head between her legs, as if answering her question and telling her he wouldn't. Oh goodness, the sensation of him shaking his head, and his mouth never ceasing to pleasure her, because that was exactly what h was doing, driving her mad with pleasure!

And then, suddenly, like a tidal wave rising above the ocean, the pleasure crashed all around her, and Sybil's mouth fell open and her eyes went wide and her head hit the back of the wall and her limbs tensed…as her body trembled and shook while wave after wave of the most beautiful and delicious pleasure washed over her.

"OOooohhhhhh Tom…" she moaned, whimpering as she continued to tremble. Tom continued his ministrations, not ceasing, but not working as vigorously as he had been, just a few seconds ago. Indeed, his tongue continued to lap at her, but the licks were long and sensuous…like he was grooming her clean, in a sense. Her limbs went slack, and she could hear Tom chuckle against her body as he gave a few final kisses to her…before straightening himself and lifting his head.

The sight of him caused her to blush brighter than she had ever blushed before. Should she feel ashamed for what she had just allowed him to do? No…no, she wasn't ashamed or embarrassed. Although she couldn't stop blushing at her wanton behavior, something she knew he loved. And judging from the proud smile he was wearing, she knew he would be teasing her about this for a very long time.

"Happy Christmas, my darlin'," he murmured, his accent thick and causing her toes to curl even more than when he had been pleasuring her.

"Indeed," she panted, blushing deeply.

"NURSE CRAWLEY!"

Sybil gasped, and Tom quickly helped her off the crate. In her struggles to right her skirts, her knickers had fallen off her ankle and onto the floor. Tom scooped them up and before the doors of the cupboard were opened, stuffed them inside his pocket.

"Jenny!" Sybil squeaked, praying her hair wasn't sticking out in every which way. "I um…I was getting some supplies, and needed Branson's help in lifting some of the heavy boxes—"

"I understand, milady," Jenny whispered. "Um…her Ladyship called, wondering why you hadn't come back to Downton yet," the girl explained.

Sybil groaned and shook her head. "Thank you, Jenny; I'll be going home right away." She then leaned in and whispered in the girl's ear, "Please…let's keep this between ourselves?"

Jenny's brow furrowed. "Keep what, milady? You were fetching supplies and needed the Downton chauffeur's help, yes?"

Sybil stared at the girl and a slow smile spread across her face. "Yes…yes, exactly."

Jenny grinned and nodded her head, before turning and walking ahead of them.

"That was close," Tom whispered. "Think we can trust her?"

Sybil blushed but nodded her head. "Yes…I think we're safe. But we better hurry back, before Mama has Carson send a search party." She held her hand out, waiting for him to return her knickers, but he only grinned and shook his head. "Tom!" she hissed. "Give those back!"

"I'm sorry, milady," he winked, patting his pocket. "I take back what I said about exchanging presents. I think it's only fair that I hold onto mine."

* * *

**_Christmas Eve, 1921_**

Jenny groaned as the all too familiar sounds began to waft through the corridor of the third floor. Honestly…

She was a trained nurse now; having attended the very college in York that Nurse Crawley (now Nurse Branson) had attended during the War. She had a permanent place at the Downton village hospital, and was very thrilled to have Nurse Crawley (Branson) return to the staff, after both she and her husband had to flee Ireland and seek asylum in Yorkshire until things were calmer.

But really…this was too much!

Apparently Nurse Branson was supposed to be back at Downton for dinner nearly an hour ago, but there was still no sign of her. Upon hearing this news, Jenny didn't even bother to alert the head nurse, she simply poked her head outside, noticed a rather familiar looking car, and proceeded to climb the stairs to the third floor.

She waited in the next room, which thankfully was empty, and more or less twiddled her thumbs until she heard the obvious sounds of…completion. Then, she heard what could only be the sounds of fabric being righted. Now, she moved forward and gently knocked on the door. "Nurse Branson?"

A few mumbled curse words were uttered, followed by some mumbled laughter. More sounds of shoes and fabric were heard, before finally the doors opened. Both Nurse Branson and her husband were standing there, flushed bright red, but grinning like a pair of idiots.

"Really, Nurse Branson…" Jenny groaned.

"I'm sorry, Jenny," Sybil apologized, although she didn't sound sorry in the least. "It's just…well, it's become a bit of a Christmas tradition, ever since that one time…"

"Please," Jenny held up a hand. "What happens between two married people is their own business. But…is there a reason it has to happen in the hospital storage cupboard?"

The couple exchanged a look, before shrugging their shoulders; they had no answer. "Oh go on then!" Jenny groaned, laughing a little as she pushed them down the corridor. "Good luck explaining yourselves this time to your family!"

"They'll be too busy cooing over the baby to have noticed us missing," Sybil giggled. She and Tom took each other's hands and quickly moved down the corridor. "Happy Christmas, Jenny!" she called back to her friend, before giggling as Tom swatted her rump as they descended the stairs.

Honestly, Jenny thought to herself with a roll of her eyes. She poked her head into the cupboard, making sure everything looked righted as if nothing had happened to it. A devilish grin spread across her face. Now she just needed to figure out how best to sneak her beau up here, once her shift was over.

Indeed, it seemed that the legacy of Lady Sybil had been left on that hospital in more ways than one.

**~MERRY CHRISTMAS!~**


	2. In with a Bang

_Decided to go back and add another chapter to this fic...NOW ONE FOR NEW YEARS! Follows the same timeframe/storyline as the previous chapter. Nothing like sweet and sexy Sybil & Tom smutty goodness to celebrate the New Year. HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! And may 2013 be filled with great positive changes...and even more great Sybil/Tom fanfic. ENJOY!_

* * *

"**In with a Bang!"**

_New Year's Eve, 1918_

1918 was ending. 1919 could only bring great change and hope for a world in need of healing after such an atrocious war. That was certainly the sentiment that was felt amongst the officers who were still healing at the Downton Convalescent Home. And that was also the sentiment that was shared amongst members of Sybil's family.

It was Edith's idea that a party should be thrown in honor of the New Year and the new beginnings it would bring. Sybil fully supported this idea, and so did Granny, much to everyone's surprise. They were even more surprised when Granny agreed with Sybil that the party should be open not just to the officers and members of the family, but all members of staff as well. "Why can't we have the Servant's Ball on New Year's Eve this year? It will bring so much happiness to everyone; truly, we should all be celebrating these new beginnings!"

"I agree with Sybil," Violet Crawley announced. "What we really need is a reminder of how things used to be—a call back to those simpler times; and the Servant's Ball will be just the thing."

Sybil suppressed her groan as much as possible. Oh leave it to Granny to find a way of taking the point of New Year's—the celebration of things that are NEW—and trying to hold onto the way things USED TO be. Still, she would hold her tongue this time, because she knew that her grandmother was the only force that would convince her father to accept the idea.

"But do we have enough time to plan such a party?" her mother asked, looking concerned.

"I'll help!" Edith announced. She was grabbing any opportunity to keep her mind occupied, especially after the events that involved the mysterious Patrick Gordon. So it was decided; Downton would have a New Year's Eve ball, and all the servant's would be invited to attend, and it would be a "grand affair" (or as grand as it could be with recovering officers, hospital staff, and servants in attendance).

The weeks passed and Edith took the project to heart. Sybil watched from a distance as her sister made all the preparations, calling decorators, talking with Mrs. Patmore about preparing as much food as possible ahead of time, and sending out invitations to any of the officers who lived close by, inviting them, as well as their families to attend. Sybil kept busy at the hospital…as well as with her latest secret…Tom Branson.

Her friendship with the chauffeur wasn't a great secret; many of the servants were aware of how Sybil talked to Tom (although she was sure to call him "Branson" when they weren't alone), and Sybil was "infamous" for forming friendships with people across boundaries. She had even grown close to Thomas of all people, much to the surprise of Mrs. Hughes, Anna, Bates, Daisy, and even Tom. But her "friendship" with Tom was something much, much deeper.

The barriers had been broken. Now, when they were alone, they would spend long minutes locked in a heated embrace, kissing and caressing and murmuring words of love in both English and Irish. They were making plans; they had discussed that when the last of the officers had left the house, they would run away together to be married, and then go to Dublin to make their living. Sybil had never been more excited or terrified of anything in her life. But she loved Tom; she loved him so much and she refused to let him go, no matter the consequences.

It was around Christmas that things began to take a turn towards the…"forbidden". At least that was what she had been taught when she was younger. First they were caressing while kissing…then Sybil encouraged him to touch her in places that a "proper gentleman would never touch", at least not until they were married. Then, those caresses became bolder, and soon Tom was unbuttoning her blouse to touch her skin, as well as letting his fingers wander beneath her skirt. But none of that compared to the "present" Tom had given her that Christmas night, in the storage cupboard on the third floor of the village hospital. It had been the most strange, beautiful, and erotic moment of her life. And the thing that happened at the end…when her body began to tremble and tingle all over and she felt as if an explosion had just…erupted inside her! Oh, how she wanted to experience that again. But she knew it was difficult, because despite their forbidden behavior, they truly were _trying_ to wait until after they were married. Still…every night since Christmas, Sybil had been dreaming about sharing such a moment with Tom again.

But she would settle for the second thing she dreamed about: dancing with him. They had missed all their opportunities in the past for dancing, because of some conflict or another with the Servant's Ball. And during the War, they didn't have any (as if not having them was a sign of patriotic sacrifice). So she would finally have that experience of holding Tom and he holding her, and no one would question it. Well, Mary might, Sybil thought with a frown. Her sister was aware that Tom had feelings for her, but Mary was so occupied in caring for Matthew as he continued to recover, that maybe she wouldn't notice anything?

"We'll have to be careful," Sybil told him one afternoon. She had told everyone that she would be leaving for a shift at the hospital, which was true…she just failed to mention that the shift didn't start for another hour. She was cuddled in the back of the Renault with Tom, who was holding her close, pausing her speech every so often to kiss her lips. "We can't—MMmmMmmm—make it obvious—MmmmMMMmm—about how we—MmmMmM—Tom, this is serious!" She swatted his chest as he continued to kiss her.

He couldn't help but chuckle. "I know love, I know," he kissed the tip of her nose and then her frowning brow. "I promise not to hold you too close…and to not let my hands wander…" his hands began to wander then down her back…until they reached her rump and gave it a seductive squeeze.

She swatted him again, although she couldn't deny she loved the feel of his hands. "Unless you can outrun a bullet, I think that's very wise."

"Of course, there is another problem," he sighed, looking serious now.

Sybil frowned and looked into his eyes to see what was wrong. "What?"

"It's New Year's Eve," he murmured, his lips hovering close to hers. "How will I be able to keep myself from kissing you when the clock strikes twelve?"

Sybil eyed him and then laced her fingers through his hair before bringing his lips to hers. "Then we'll just have to pretend its midnight now," she whispered, before giving in to the promise of his kiss.

A few days later, the day and the event had arrived. It was held in the great hall, and there was various paper crowns for people to wear, left over from Christmas. The servants were dressed in their finery, although their finery seemed very simple compared to the grand dresses of her mother, grandmother, and sisters. Sybil did wear a dress that was not her uniform, however she chose to make it one that she hoped wouldn't outshine Anna or Jane or Daisy or any of the other servants who were attending. The party soon got underway, and Sybil watched as more people arrived from below stairs, as well as from outside. Many officers attended, and Sybil greeted them as well as her friends who worked at the hospital. She was asked to dance by one officer, and agreed, although she kept her eyes peeled for Tom. She danced with Bates then, and after him, with Thomas. Oh gracious, where was he? Why hadn't he arrived—

"I'm cutting in, Thomas."

Sybil did everything she could to suppress her smile. Thomas frowned at Tom, but Sybil looked up at him, her eyes shining with happiness at seeing him there.

"It's alright, Thomas," she assured the former first footman. "I'd rather trample on his feet than yours."

Tom rolled his eyes at her snide comment, and then swept her away from the grumbling footman. "What makes you think I won't trample on yours?" he asked with a smirk.

"Ha!" Sybil grinned. "You would never do anything to harm my poor little feet."

_"Little?"_ he looked down at her slippers. "Beggin' your pardon, milady, but my brother has smaller—ow!"

"Oh dear," Sybil sighed. "It appears that one of my giant, mutated, freakish feet slipped onto your delicate toes."

He gave her a look, before breaking into a smile and sweeping her around in a circle, causing her to gasp and nearly squeal. "Careful!" she hissed into his ear. "We don't want people to stare!"

"Can't be helped," he whispered back. "You're the most beautiful woman in this room; it's only natural for all of them to stare."

She blushed at his compliment, and wished that things were different, because she wanted nothing more than to kiss him right now. But somehow she found the strength to withstand the temptation, as well as the strength to release him when the music had ended, and dance with someone else. She watched as Tom danced with other members of her family, including Edith, her mother, and Granny. Yet she noticed that he did avoid Mary, and Mary was keeping a watchful eye, much to Sybil's disappointment. However, as the evening wore on, and as the wine and champagne began to flow more freely, her sister's eyes shifted to Matthew, who was trying to keep a smile on his face despite the fact that he couldn't truly dance with the rest of them, not like he used to. Mary rose to keep him company (neither Lavinia or Sir Richard were present) and soon the two of them were laughing and making merry, which was perfect, because Sybil took the opportunity to once again dance with Tom.

"It will be midnight soon," he whispered in her ear.

"Yes," she sighed, wishing again that he could kiss her.

"Out with the old and in with the new…"

"Indeed," she murmured with a smile. "And always in with a bang!"

Tom lifted a brow at this. "A bang you say?" She nodded…and felt her knees go weak as she saw that dark, seductive look in the depths of his eyes. "Well milady…I must make sure to help you welcome it with a…bang."

"Tom…" she murmured his name in warning, but she couldn't deny her heart was racing with delicious thoughts about what he was promising her.

"Do you trust me?" he whispered in her ear.

She remembered what happened the last time he had asked her that question, and she practically melted against him at the thought. But…could they? HERE? With…all these people?

…And yet the idea had her blood racing and burning with anticipation and excitement.

"Yes," she answered, her voice low and husky.

He grinned…and danced them back to a corner of the room, away from the crowd. "Take off your knickers," he whispered in her ear.

Sybil gasped and moaned slightly at his order. "Will I get them back?" she asked, blushing and giggling as she remembered how he still had claim to her knickers from Christmas.

"I don't make any promises," he teased.

She bit her lip…and then carefully, her eyes never leaving his…wriggled her body just so…sliding them down her legs without having to lift her skirt…and let them slip down to the floor, until they were puddled at her feet.

Tom quickly bent to retrieve them, pausing just slightly, his face near her body, and Sybil gasped as she realized his nose was sniffing her! "You smell divine," he growled, but he quickly rose back to his feet, her knickers once again in his property, and he stuffed them, like before, into his jacket pocket.

"Now…put your arms on my shoulders," he whispered, "and part your legs, but only just slightly…" she nodded her head, anticipating more. She was growing hotter and wetter by the second, and that tight, delicious feeling was curling in the pit of her stomach, yearning for more—yearning for _him_.

"Sybil…" he leaned close, and she felt his hand hovering over the waistband of her skirt. "I'm going to put my hand down your skirt," he told her, and she gripped his shoulders to keep herself from fainting at the erotic promise. "I'm going to touch you as I have before," he murmured. "As I did on Christmas," he promised. "I'm going to slip my fingers inside your body…and make you tremble with pleasure…and I'm not going to stop…until it's 1919."

"Tom…" she moaned, as she felt his fingers move beneath the waistband of her skirt. Her legs were shaking, and she was sure they would give out from under her if he weren't holding her and she weren't gripping his strong, muscular shoulders.

"Now you can't scream, love," he told her. "You can't bring any attention to us…you're going to have to bite your lip to keep yourself from screaming."

"I wish I could bite yours," she gasped, feeling wicked for her words, but smiling because she knew it would drive him mad with desire.

"Aye, I wish you could too," he groaned at the erotic image. And without warning, she gasped as she felt his finger tease at the opening of her womanhood.

He watched her face as he began to move his fingers closer…running them up and down the wet lips of her sex, before slowly…letting one sink inside.

"OH!"

"Shhhh…" he whispered, carefully moving his finger in and out of her body.

"Oh Tom…I…I don't think I can keep quiet," she whimpered. It felt so good…feeling him touch her like this. The way his finger, long and thick, slid into her body…and then slide back out, before sliding back in…oh gracious, she was going to scream!

"Try, love, try…" he growled, his own body on fire, his own desires raging inside. If he could, he would take her right now against this wall and end their torture. But not yet. Soon—but not yet. However, he loved pleasuring her, and he knew after what had happened on Christmas, that Sybil was craving more of that pleasure…and he was craving the urge to give it to her. He loved how responsive she was; he couldn't wait to make love to her, he couldn't wait to have a life with her where they no longer had to play this game of "servant and lady" but could truly be equals—husband and wife, man and woman, lovers and friends.

No, if Tom had his way, neither one of them would get much sleep on their wedding night. And he had a feeling Sybil wouldn't mind that either.

He sunk another finger into her body. Sybil gripped his shoulders and gasped and then quickly bit her lip to keep from screaming her pleasure. He pumped both fingers…and glanced at a nearby mantle where he saw a clock. Just a few more minutes.

The motions of his fingers started slowly…but began to build. More and more, faster and faster. First it was just the tips of his fingers…and then the he moved them deeper, up to the first knuckle…and then to the second.

"Tom…Tom…Tom…" she kept whimpering his name, her eyes squeezed closed as the pleasure continued to build and build.

"I love you," he growled in her ear. "I love you…God, you have no idea how much I love seeing you like this…how beautiful you are, how you glow when you're enraptured with pleasure…" he kept pumping, more and more, faster, deeper, faster, deeper…

"Please…" she gasped. "I…I need…I need…"

"Soon, love," he promised. "It's almost midnight…"

"Oh God!" she moaned, digging her nails into his shoulder.

A countdown had begun behind them.

"10! 9! 8! 7! 6…!"

Tom grinned and moved his thumb just a little…until it was touching the crowning jewel of her womanhood.

"5! 4! 3! 2…!"

He rubbed his thumb, ever so gently across her clitoris, and Sybil came undone in his arms.

"TOM!" she gasped.

"1! HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

Tom moved in then, his mouth covering hers in a searing kiss and swallowing the pleasured screams of her orgasm that threatened to fill the room. People were clapping and wishing one another blessings and good fortunes for a happy and brighter new year. Only when the trembling began to subside…did Tom lift his mouth away.

Sybil stared back at him…a beautiful and satisfied smile on her face. He grinned and carefully moved his hand, enjoying the look of disappointment on her face when his fingers left her body. He brought his hand up, and Sybil gasped and blushed as she watched Tom lick his fingers clean. "Mmmmmm…" he growled. "1918 was a very good vintage." She somehow had the strength to swat his chest, and he only chuckled. "But I have a feeling that every year with my Sybil will be delicious."

"Don't be crude," she chastised, righting her skirt and fixing her blouse and blushing as she remembered he had her knickers in her pocket.

"Best return to the festivities," he sighed. "Can you walk?"

"Don't look so smug, Tom Branson," Sybil muttered, pointing her nose up in the air in her best "Dowager Countess" impression.

"It's impossible not to when you're the man that gets to bring Lady Sybil Crawley to heights of ecstasy."

She blushed and would have swatted him again, until Edith came up to her and Sybil put on a smile and prayed that her face showed no hints of what she and Tom had just been doing. "There you are! I was looking for you during the countdown but didn't see you."

"Someone stepped on my foot during the last dance," Tom explained with a sympathetic face. "Luckily for me, a kind nurse saw to my care."

Sybil gave him a look, but he just looked so innocent and sweet that it was impossible not to smile at him.

"Oh dear!" Edith said with concern. "Well, perhaps you should go and lay down?"

"Yes, Branson, that sounds like the best thing to do," Sybil agreed. "Best to lie down and…see to your ailments."

Her eyes fell then to the rather obvious bulge that was showing in his trousers. Edith hadn't noticed because Sybil was quick to step in front of him and keep the lower portion of his body hidden.

Tom blushed but nodded his head. "Yes, probably for the best…" he turned then and whispered to Sybil, "I'll go ring in the new year with a bang, too."

Sybil nibbled her lip, and watched as Edith wandered away to speak with several officers. "Shame I can't return the favor," she said with a blush. She hadn't had the chance to touch him, not yet. That was her first resolution for the New Year; to bring Tom Branson to the same earth-shattering ends as he had brought her.

"New Year's resolution?" he asked with a cheeky grin.

She returned the smile. "My thoughts exactly."

* * *

_New Year's Eve, 1921_

"Sybil?" Edith was calling for her, but she was a little bit…occupied at the moment.

"Oh God…"

"Sybil?"

"Love, I…I don't know if I can…"

"Sybil, where are you?"

"OH GOD!"

His cries filled her ears, as his seed filled her mouth. Sybil looked up at him and grinned as she licked him clean, and Tom groaned and caressed her beautiful cheeks as she did so. "God I love you…" he managed to gasp, once his breathing had returned to normal.

"Happy New Year darling," she purred, giving his cock one last kiss, before helping him place it back inside his trousers.

"In with a bang, indeed!" he groaned, helping her back to her feet.

"SYBIL BRANSON, ARE YOU IN THERE?"

Sybil groaned and rolled her eyes, and quickly smoothed down her hair and ran her fingers along her chin to make sure there was no "incriminating residue" left on her face. With a reluctant sigh, she opened the broom closet door.

Edith was standing outside, her arms folded across her chest and shaking her head at the two of them; they both looked sheepish and were blushing deeply, but they also looked very…satisfied. "Honestly," she said with a shake of her head. "Mama and Papa have been asking for you! Papa's about to make his New Year's toast and we're all waiting for you!" she hissed.

"Sorry," Sybil muttered, although if truth be told, she wasn't feeling that sorry. "We um…well you see—"

"What? Lost an earring? A button? Did someone step on Tom's foot again and you had to 'nurse him back to health'?"

Sybil winced, and then with a sheepish smile began to murmur, "well it's funny that you should mention that, because—"

"Oh please," Edith groaned, lifting a hand to silence her. "Why couldn't you have gone upstairs to your bedroom?"

"Because we didn't want to be _that_ obvious," Sybil hissed. Tom was just standing behind the two of them, his face burning with embarrassment, but at the same time, he couldn't help but smile. After all, Sybil had helped him ring in the New Year with quite a bang indeed!

Edith sighed and shook her head. "You two have been married for three years now; hasn't the honeymoon stage begun to fade?"

Tom and Sybil looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. Edith only rolled her eyes.

"Anyway, I told them all you had gone upstairs to wish Happy New Year to my sweet little niece," Edith explained.

"Oh thank you, Edith," Sybil sighed with relief. The last thing she wanted was her father to look at the both of them with a dark scowl while he made his toast.

"Yes, you can thank me by taking my place whenever Alfred wants a dance at the Servant's Ball."

Sybil stared at her sister with horrified eyes. She then looked at Tom for sympathy. "My poor feet," she groaned.

Tom put his arm around his wife and led her back towards the dining room where the rest of the family waited. "At least yours are big enough to do battle—ow!" he rubbed his backside.

**HAPPY NEW YEAR!**


End file.
